Starveling.
Bot.
Are we all met?
Qui.
Pat, pat; and here's a marvels note convenient place
for our rehearsal: This green plot shall be our stage,
this hauthorn brake our tyring-house; and we will do
it in action, as we will do it before the duke.
Bot.
Peter Quince,—
Qui.
What say'st thou, bully Bottom?
Bot.
There are things in this comedy, of Pyramus
and Thisby, that will never please. First, Pyramus must
draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies cannot
abide. How answer you that?
Sno.
By'r-lakin, a par'lous fear.
Sta.
I believe, we must leave the killing out, when
all is done.
Bot.
Not a whit; I have a device to make all well.
-- 30 --
Write me a prologue: and let the prologue seem to say,
we will do no harm with our swords; and that Pyramus
is not kill'd indeed: and, for the more better assurance,
tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom
the weaver: This will put them out of fear.
Qui.
Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall
be written in eight and six.
Bot.
No, make it two more; let it be written in
eight and eight.
Sno.
Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
Sta.
I fear it, I promise you.
Bot.
Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves: note
to bring in, God shield us! a lion among ladies, is a
most dreadful thing: for there is not a more fearful
wild-fowl, than your lion, living; and we ought to look
to't. note
Sno.
Therefore, another prologue must tell, he is not
a lion.
Bot.
Nay, you must name his name, and half his
face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himself
must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect,
—Ladies, or, fair ladies, I would wish you, or, I
would request you, or, I would entreat you, not to fear,
not to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come
hither as a lion, it were pity of my life: No, I am no
such thing; I am a man, as other men are:—and there,
indeed, let him name his name; and tell them plainly note,
he is Snug the joiner.
Qui.
Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard
things; that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber:
for, you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moon-light.
-- 31 --
Snu.
Doth note the moon shine that night we play our play ?
Bot.
A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack;
find out moon-shine, find out moon-shine.
Qui.
Yes, it doth shine that night.
Bot.
Why note, then may you leave a casement of the
great chamber window, where we play, open; and the
moon may shine in at the casement.
Qui.
Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of
thorns and a lanthorn, and say, he comes to disfigure,
or to present, the person of moon-shine. Then, there is
another thing: we must have a wall in the great chamber;
for Pyramus and Thisby, says the story, did talk
through the chink of a wall.
Snu.
You note can never bring in a wall.—What say you,
Bottom?
Bot.
Some man or other must present wall: and let
him have some plaster, or some lome, or some roughcast,
about him, to signify wall; or let him hold his
fingers thus †, and through that cranny shall Pyramus
and Thisby whisper.
Qui.
If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit down,
every mother's son, and rehearse your parts.—Pyramus,
you begin: when you have spoken your speech, enter
into that brake; and so every one according to his cue.
Enter Puck.
&clquo;Puc.
&clquo;What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here,&crquo;
&clquo;So near the cradle of the fairy queen?&crquo;
&clquo;What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor;&crquo;
&clquo;An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.&crquo;
Qui.
Speak, Pyramus:—Thisby, stand forth.
&cast;Pyr.
&cast;Thisby, the flower note14Q0244 of odious savours sweet,—
Qui.
Odours, odours. note
-- 32 --
&cast;Pyr.
&cast;&lblank; odours savours sweet:
&cast;So doth thy note breath, my dearest Thisby dear.
&cast;But, hark, a voice! stay thou but here a whit, note
&cast;And by and by I will to thee appear.
[Exit.
&clquo;Puc.
&clquo;A stranger Pyramus than e'er play'd here.&crquo;
[Exit.
Flu.
Must I speak now?
Qui.
Ay, marry, must you: for, you must understand,
he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is
to come again.
&cast;Thi.
&cast;Most radiant Pyramus, most lilly-white of hue,
&cast;Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
&cast;Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew,
&cast;As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire,
&cast;I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.
Qui.
Ninus' tomb, man? why, you must not speak
that yet; that you answer to Pyramus: you speak all
your part at once, cues and all.—Pyramus, enter; your
cue is past; it is, never tire.
&cast;Thi.
&cast;O, As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.
Re-enter Puck, and Bottom with an ass' Head.
&cast;Pyr.
&cast;If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine:—
Qui.
O monstrous! o strange! we are haunted. Pray,
masters! fly, masters! help!
[Exeunt all the Clowns.
&clquo;Puc.
&clquo;I'll follow you; I'll lead you about a round,&crquo;
&clquo;Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier:&crquo;
&clquo;Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,&crquo;
&clquo;A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;&crquo;
&clquo;And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,&crquo;
&clquo;Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.&crquo;
[Exit.
Bot.
Why do they run away? this is a knavery of
them, to make me afeard.
Re-enter Snout.
-- 33 --
Sno.
O Bottom, thou art chang'd! what do I see on
thee?
[Exit.
Bot.
What do you see? you see an ass' head of your
own; Do you?
Re-enter Quince.
Qui.
Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated.
[Exit.
Bot.
I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of
me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir from
this place, do what they can: I will walk up and down
here, and I will sing, that they shall hear I am not
afraid.
[sings.
The ouzel cock, so black of hue,
with orange-tawny bill,
the throstle with his note so true,
the wren with little note quill;
Tit.
What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed?
Bot.
the finch, note the sparrow, and the lark,
the plain-song cuckoo gray,
whose note full many a man doth mark,
and dares not answer, nay;—
—for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a
bird? who would give a bird the lie, though he cry,
cuckoo, never so?
Tit.
I pray thee, gentle mortal,14Q0245 sing again:
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note,
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me,
On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee.
Bot.
Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason
for that: And yet, to say the truth, reason and love
keep little company together now-a-days: The more the
-- 34 --
pity, that some honest neighbours will not make them
friends. Nay, I can gleek, upon occasion.
Tit.
Thou art as wise, as thou art beautiful.
Bot.
Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to
get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own
turn.
Tit.
Out of this wood do not desire to go;
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit, of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state,
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.—
Pease-blossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustard-seed!
Enter four Fairies.
1. F.
Ready.
2.
And I.
3.
and I.
4.
and I.
all.
Where shall we go?
Tit.
Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricocks, and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
And, for night tapers, crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
To have my love to bed, and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butter-flies,
To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes:
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
14Q0246
1. F.
Hail, mortal!
2.
hail!
3.
hail!
4.
hail!
-- 35 --
Bot.
I cry your worships mercy, heartily.—I beseech,
your worship's name?
Cob.
Cobweb.
Bot.
I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good
master Cobweb: If I cut my finger, I shall make bold
with you.—Your name, honest gentleman?
Pea.
Pease-blossom.
Bot.
I pray you, commend me to mistress Squash,
your mother, and to master Peascod, your father. Good
master Pease-blossom, I shall desire you of note more acquaintance
too.—Your name, I beseech you, sir?
Mus.
Mustard-seed.
Bot.
Good master Mustard-seed, I know your patience
well: note that same cowardly, giant-like, ox-beef hath devour'd
many a gentleman of your house: I promise
you, your kindred hath made note my eyes water ere now.
I desire you, more note acquaintance, good master Mustard-seed.
Tit.
Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
The moon, methinks, looks with a watry eye;
And when she weeps, weeps every note little flower,
Lamenting some enforced chastity.
Tye up my love's note tongue, bring him silently.
[Exeunt.
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
